Joining up with Kate and all the other fabulous writers over at her site as we write for five-minutes unedited on a prompt of her choosing. It’s always wonderful to see what inspires each of us as we write on the same word. Check out some of the other writers and their words as well.

Prompt: Because

GO

We’ve started a series by Matt Chandler called ‘Reclaiming Redemption’ and I have to be honest. I love Matt Chandler. But i was a little taken aback that at a women’s bible study we were going to be taught by a man. Now i don’t consider myself to be a feminist per se but I do live in a post feminist world which means that there are certain things that cause my hair to bristle. I thought that the men that i know at church wouldn’t be taught by a women (I’m pretty sure) so why do we need to listen to a man when we get one every sunday. Don’t get me wrong. I respect and love the pastor that we have leading our flock and I believe that He’s a God ordained leader. But i just thought its a women’s bible study, perhaps we could listen to some of those amazing women who are out there who have amazing God-given gifts to teach.

But then I started listening to the sermons and doing the homework and I quickly realized what the problem really was…my heart.

Because while I’ve been struggling the past couple of months with many things, one of the things was being able to SEE my sinfulness. I know I’m a sinner saved by grace. And I know that there are things that I elevate in my mind as being less ‘bad’ then other things, when I also know that all sin is sin. But it wasn’t until I heard Matt Chandler lay it out in crystal clear, black and white that I came to see the depravity of my self, and trying to do things on my own.

Because of my own preconceived notions I almost missed out on an opportunity to have my heart challenged and changed. Because I was struggling, I almost didn’t see what was right in front of me, the truth….but my eyes had been blind. because I was proud, I didn’t ask for help…because I didn’t think that I needed it.

So thankful for a man of God who isn’t afraid to say the hard things because sometimes they need to be said. But who also isn’t afraid to preach the WORD of God boldly because it isn’t a message that needs to be watered down. I’m so thankful for grace, but I need to see my sinfulness in its proper light as well and understand what that grace cost my Lord and Saviour.

The manila envelope hung heavy in her hands. Her sweat stained it dark around the edges, where she had fingered the flap in the days past. She knew what the interior contained and yet didn’t want to face it in dark ink on fresh paper…the sentences that would forever change her world.

She sat barefoot on the cement steps, her toes touching a bit of sunlight. The cat sat beside her, the steady hum of her purr creating a cadence of normalcy. Her children ran around her, circling with buzzing rhythm. Their innocence keeping them unknowing of the impending storm.

Her finger lay heavy across the address the letter had been mailed from. The numbers and letters seemed to settle themselves into her flesh. No need to open the envelope. The heat of its contents seemed to seep through the seams. She knew that they would burn more than her heart, this would be a life changing blaze.

She was putting off the inevitable. The letter had arrived days before and she just couldn’t bring herself to reveal its contents. She thought that by leaving that seal closed firmly…that she could prevent the contents from divulging themselves to her. She knew that once that papers were released, there would be no going back. It wasn’t like she didn’t know the contents, she just wanted to stop them up, keep herself in this reality for awhile more. She wasn’t ready for the changes that were emblazoned on the page, and soon to be tattooed on her mind, and in her heart.

It was one of those moments, with the dappled sunlight kissing her toes, and the laughter of children surrounding her; that she felt she was dreaming. It was all so surreal.She had never imagined that her life would turn out like this. She had always dreamed of so much more. This letter had never made its way into her dreams. This was just a nightmare. Nothing like what her childhood dreams had spoken of. And there was no one to hold her when the tears fell and screams filled her lungs this time. She was alone.

Lifting her head, a haze still marring her eyes, she wonders. How is it that life just seems to go on, when devastation lies just beyond the horizon. It seems like life should be stoppable in this freeze frame and yet it continues on, in some macabre dance around you as your world slowly melts into destruction.

Taking a deep breathe, she sat taller on the step, clenched her jaw and turned the envelope over. Her fingers made quick work of the seal, and as she reached her hand in to gather the contents she knew that it couldn’t be put off forever. The edge of the paper felt like a knife on her skin as she slid it out into the sunlight’s glaring brightness. Nothing could be hidden any longer, it was time to face this dance she hadn’t ask for.

The first lines jumped right off the page, searing her vision ‘We regret to inform you…’ and she felt her body begin to shake, the words began to blur as tears fell from her face and her heart began to wish it didn’t know this rhythm. Nothing would ever be the same again.

I love to write because it helps me to get what is in my head out on the paper. I have to be able to get through things and I don’t think that I can do that without getting those things out of my head. (love this music..its the civil wars) I love reading what other people write. And there are things in other peoples writing that just really jumps out and speaks to my heart. Sometimes I have to respond to that. Sometimes there are words, sometimes there are phrases and they just stick with me. They become part of me. I haven’t been able to write as much lately because it seems like I’m stopped up. Like I have a bunch of stuff up in my mind and I can’t get it out. I sit down to write and all I get are fragments, but I guess that’s better than nothing. But I don’t sit down and make myself write either. Sometimes I just think that I should be writing but then I distract myself with other things. Perhaps I’m afraid of what might be revealed in my subconscious if I took the time to actually write stuff down. Perhaps I’d have to deal with some things that I don’t want to deal with. I think that is the truth of the matter. That I remember little things and sometimes I think of things that I need to work through but they are just a glimpse and they are too painful so I shut them away again. But I wonder how freedom would look how it would taste if I knew what it was past the door that I keep slamming and don’t let myself explore. I think that’s it I’m the one that’s holding myself back. I’m the one that’s finding things that need to be worked through but the fear is too real and too strong, and it keeps me from being part of the conversation, part of the healing, because I’m afraid and that fear is stronger than any change that I want to see in my life right now.

joining up with the great crew over at Kate’s blog where we take a moment every Thursday evening to chat it up together (check out the #fmfparty over on Twitter Thursday nights) and then write on a specific topic for five minutes flat, no editing, just streaming our hearts. Come over and join us and check out what some fabulous writers have to share…their hearts on the page.

Prompt: HOLD

GO

All I know is that I’ve been holding on. Not letting go.

I’ve been stuck in this place where I’m discontent with my job and where I find myself in life. There was a time last year that I came to a some what grudge filled conclusion that I was perhaps where God wanted me. But this year I’ve developed some what of a distaste for my workplace and my living situation. And so instead of doing anything about it, instead of following the advice that I’ve been given by some lovely God fearing women and men, I’m holding on to what I’ve known even though I’m miserable.

There are so many steps I could take. There are so many things I could do. But there is fear and its holding me back. Perhaps I’m meant to stay where I am right now. But perhaps I’m just become complacent in not having to face several no’s until I find a new yes. Perhaps I’m in this place so that I can have money for other things but perhaps I need to start saving my money for a different situation. Perhaps I’ve created a bit of a community where I am and just don’t like the thought of leaving them, but perhaps they’ll be fine without me and another community awaits. Perhaps I’m so content in the what-has-always-been that I don’t want to explore the what-is-to-come.

And so its clear that I’m holding onto the past. That I’m holding on to things that are dragging me down. I’m holding on because I want change but I don’t trust and ultimately I don’t trust that God has good for me whatever this change looks like. so basically I’m holding on to myself, and to my thoughts and to my desires…and while I’m looking to him and striving to listen to him, I keep getting gin the way of truly surrendering to him. Because I think that by holding on so tightly to what is asked to be surrendered that I might have a chance at stopping the swirling chaos that is my life. I’m not sure that’s going to happen as long as its me holding myself up, holding on to such fast and fleeting things.

Joining up (at the last moment) with Kate over at her site for the beautiful link up known as Five Minute Friday. This week we were challenged to write about the word prompt :Ready for five minutes, no editing. And as usual, visiting your fellow writers is a no brainer!

Prompt: READY

GO

Clearly I’m not ready because here I am writing the day before the next prompt. But I’ve come to realize in the past couple of weeks, that while I do love linking up and it took me awhile to jump into the #fmfparty, that I now gather on Thursday nights for the community more than the writing. Well my personal writing.

I love reading so many of what others have written. I’ve been finding in this season of my life, that my words are so often stopped up inside of me. And when I’m reading what others have written I find some of my thoughts poured out on the page in manners in which I’d never thought of expressing something. And it speaks to me. And that is where I hear His voice speaking to me lately, in other people’s words. and sometimes these revelations are auditory and sometimes they are mental bright lights being flicked on…but each one leaves me breathless.

And so i guess in some sense I am ready to step into this new season and trying out my voice when the time presents itself. Of not being afraid to express myself and thinking that perhaps other people have the only way of expressing themselves that matters. and that ultimately my story is made up of all the pieces that compose who I am.

I am thankful for the community found in this group. For the fierce bravery with which so many women write and also with which they challenge each other to write. And i’m thankful that its a safe place for launching your words, your dreams, your desires, your pain..and being loved and cared for and accepted.

I am ready to join in. I am ready to commit myself to community. I am ready to start writing my heart and hearing it roar. I’m ready to speak truth into life and have it spring forth into whatever God sees fit to do with it. Its daring. its not like me. but I’m ready.

I’m not sure what it was
that lulled me into that place
it might have been the comfy chairs
The cream, sugar and coffee that I drank
the way you turned your body
towards mine
but I broke open
whispered a piece of my heart
let the thought escape my lips
treated you as a confidante
and you listened
heard me
took a moment to take it in
and responded
not with depth of your own
but not with disdain either
rather an understanding
and I felt a spark
a glimpse
of what sharing my voice
feels like